[12/12/19]
The forms our social structures have taken reflect something of God in them. But they also reflect the sinful state of man which has required they take the form they have. If we look to the heavenly realms as modeling God’s preferred approach to social structures, we do not find anarchy. We find a lawful organization of society, with authority structures firmly in place. God is set as the pinnacle of this social order. Even within the fellowship of the Trinity we find evidence of such an organizing principle, don’t we? Father decrees, Son implements, Spirit applies. It is, to be sure, a gross oversimplification of the relationships found in the Trinity, but it suffices for the purpose of this discussion.
What I seek to convey here is that the need for governing authority is not unique to fallen man. It is found in heaven as well. What we may attribute to the fallen state of man is the need for said authority to enforce its will. We may attribute to the fallen state of man the tendency to rebel against authority and pursue a course of seeming autonomy. Of course, we must also attribute that same tendency to Satan and to those fallen angels who followed him down. Let us, then, say this much: The forms that our social structures have taken are by God’s design and purposefully suited to our present condition. This may not seem to be true at present, or it may not seem to have been true at certain points in history. But we must come to recognize that even the darkest days of history, while they do not speak at all well of humanity, were in fact bent to the purposes of God to produce a good result.
As a dear brother of mine reminded last week, sometimes God works through means, sometimes beyond means, and sometimes in spite of means. God’s works, God’s purposes, are not restricted in any way by the efforts of man, whether those efforts are ostensibly for Him, or whether those efforts are blatantly opposed to Him. He will do what He will do. His word does not return to Him without having accomplished all that He purposes. This understanding must inform our views of the social structures that govern our lives.
a. Government
Let’s start with the purpose and the state of government. Government, as I have been strongly implying, is a reflection of God’s own governance of heaven, and of all Creation, for that matter. It is, in effect, an extension, a delegation of His authority. In His talks with Pilate, Pilate thought to impress Jesus with his authority when Jesus would not speak. “You do not speak to me? Do You not know that I have authority to release You, and I have authority to crucify You?” (Jn 19:10). Jesus, however, had greater understanding. “You would have no authority over Me, unless it had been given you from above; for this reason he who delivered Me to you has the greater sin” (Jn 19:11).
Now, to be fair, I don’t know how Pilate took that statement. Did he hear a reference to his authority being delegated to him by God, or did he hear reference to Caesar? Clearly, as ensuing events showed, he had a very clear realization that his power, and even his life, for all that, depended on Caesar’s continuing approval of his actions. When the Jews reminded him of the dangers of being found no friend of Caesar, it put paid to any thoughts he had of doing right by Jesus. The danger of Caesar’s wrath was quite real to him. The danger of God’s wrath was likely less. Oh, we have the sense that Pilate, like most Romans, was a bit superstitious. Word of his wife’s ominous dream regarding Jesus also troubled him. But I the end, the clear and present danger represented in Caesar counted more than some ethereal, otherworldly deity.
This, I must observe, is nothing unique to Pilate, nor even to unbelievers. If we are honest, we must surely find our own response to God follows shockingly similar lines. Give us the risk of angering the man in power and the risk of angering God, and it’s entirely likely we will place far more concern on that man in power. Just ask yourself how you would be faring as a member of the church in China, as the authorities, seemingly unopposable in their power begin to imprison those who have been identified as Christians. Ask yourself how you would respond had the forces of Isis or their ilk overrun your town, pulled you out of your house, and prepared to slaughter you as an infidel. I know how we should like to see ourselves responding to such crises, but for how many would the ideal prove the reality? I will tell you plainly that apart from God’s supernatural intervention, that number would be zero.
Meanwhile, we are on the topic of government. Perhaps the clearest statement on the matter comes from Paul, citizen of Rome, writing to the nascent church in Rome. “Every person is to be in subjection to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those which exist are established by God” (Ro 13:1). Whatever it was Pilate thought Jesus meant, this was the truth of it. “Therefore whoever resists authority has opposed the ordinance of God; and they who have opposed will receive condemnation upon themselves. For rulers are not a cause of fear for good behavior, but for evil. Do you want to have no fear of authority? Do what is good and you will have praise from the same; for it is a minister of God to you for good. But if you do what is evil, be afraid; for it does not bear the sword for nothing; for it is a minister of God, an avenger who brings wrath on the one who practices evil” (Ro 13:2-4).
What are we to say, then? Were those who hid away to avoid the persecutions of Nero sinning against God? What of the Reformers? Were they not acting against the authority of both church and state in seeking to alter the course of Christianity in their day? What, for that matter, of those Chinese Christians, who by their very faith defy the governing dictates of atheistic communism? Are they, by their faith, sinning against God? Clearly, this is not the case. And this must once more adjust our views.
All authority is in fact from God, delegated by Him to those to whom He chooses to delegate it. That which He delegates, to be clear, He can as readily take back. It is not a permanent impartation of rule, but a period of rule, the duration of which is His to determine. The rise and fall of empires is His to determine. Now, here’s the thing we must understand. When that one to whom authority is delegated uses his authority to act contrary to the one by whom authority was delegated, authority ceases to be authority.
Let’s put that in a very present-tense setting. In our government, apart from elected officials we have a vast array of what we call political appointees. That is to say, they are not voted into office, but put in place by those who were. Amongst those appointees in the executive branch are ambassadors. Ambassadors are sent to foreign realms to serve as representatives of the national government. They have a certain degree of authority to speak for and negotiate on behalf of our government. That said, when their actions run counter to that of the president, he is perfectly within rights to both reject the things they have negotiated in bad faith, and to remove them from their position. Frankly, even if they have done nothing of the sort, he is perfectly within rights to remove them from their position. They serve at his will. Their authority and their perks are entirely subject to the one who delegated to them their position.
Now, the wise president recognizes that he himself is a man under authority. His authority is also delegated to him. We could get all idealistic and insist that his authority is delegated to him by we the people, and on the civil plane, I suppose that’s at least theoretically true. But I am concerned with the vertical plane. The authority of the president, of any ruler, as Paul is indicating, comes from God. That same held for the likes of Nero, hard as that is to take. That same held for Hitler, which is even harder to take; or for Idi Amin. Choose your tyrant. The same rule applies. But here’s the thing: When the delegate ceases to represent the delegator, his authority ceases to be authoritative.
Where do we draw the line? First, we draw it with great care, with fear and trembling, even. To continue Paul’s discussion, “Therefore it is necessary to be in subjection, not only because of wrath, but also for conscience’ sake. For because of this you also pay taxes, for rulers are servants of God, devoting themselves to this very thing” (Ro 13:5-6). Now, I have to say it’s hard to think of this as anything but a rosy view of the civil servant. But let us accept that Paul is right in his assessment. This devotion to duty speaks well of them, but is no guarantee that their resultant efforts will prove godly or even God-honoring.
I wonder, though: How many among us contemplate the taxes we pay as supporting servants of God? For my part, when I make my contribution to the church, or to some other Christian ministry, I certainly feel like I am contributing to the support of those who serve God. But when I pay my property taxes, or when it comes time to consider just how great a percentage of my paycheck has gone to support the government? Honestly, I don’t tend to see that as some sort of holy giving, supporting the man of God. Frankly, looking at most of the individuals that we find in government, I don’t see a man of God. Well, that’s nothing new. Nobody was looking at the emperor in Rome and thinking what a fine Christian he was. Nobody was looking upon the Roman senate and seeing a group of fine, upstanding believers. To put it simply, what Paul was saying was no nearer to normative then than it is now. Yet, the command is reinforced. “Render to all what is due them: tax to whom tax is due; custom to whom custom; fear to whom fear; honor to whom honor” (Ro 13:7). And all of this, he explains, comes about as the rule to love one’s neighbor. In other words, this is all in pursuit of obeying God’s Law.
[12/12/19]
So, again: At what point do we say enough is enough? Is it time to reject the government when they enact laws permitting that which we would deem ungodly? While that might sound reasonable, it is not in fact what Scripture tells us. Again, think about the society then present in the Roman empire. The culture of Rome could hardly have been described as godly. The characters of those in power were not of a sort one could stand in the pulpit and say, “Observe men such as these and emulate them.” Yet, it is in regard to such as these that Paul said to be in subjection, and even to honor.
Looking at our current crop of politicians one would be hard-pressed to identify more than a handful, if that many, that one would account as honorable. Yet, the call hasn’t changed. Honor where honor is due, and subjection regardless. The line has not yet been crossed, even by those who seek to expand the accessibility of abortion services, and the period of development to which this form of murder may be discounted as merely a matter of personal choice.
Don’t get me wrong. The things they advocate and grant legitimacy to are in fact pure evil. In fairness, I would have to say that those who are enacting such legislation are not in fact acting as authorized by their office. Oh, by purely human standards, yes, the office has the power to enact such heinous laws. But the authorizing agent for that office is higher than man, and these sorts of laws in no wise reflect His governance. These wielders of delegated powers have demonstrably acted in such fashion as usurps the authority of He who delegated. Even so, they have not as yet crossed the line which would not merely permit, but even require active and overt disobedience.
Where is that line? That line is clearly to be found where those in office require participation in such activities as are contrary to the law of holiness. We are beginning to see such laws enacted. If you think otherwise, one need only consider the legal fallout that has followed on enacting of government-run healthcare. Suddenly, employers, regardless of their religious convictions, regardless of any need for same, must provide for things like contraceptives. I cannot but suppose that mandatory support of gender reassignment is not far from becoming law, at which point I think the line at the very least begins to appear, however blurry it may be.
If the Christian is being mandated to contribute to that which is unequivocally ungodly in nature, can payment of taxes still be counted as obligatory? That’s a difficult question. Thus far, there is at least the fiction of tax dollars not going directly to the abortion services provided by Planned Parenthood, but it is quite clearly a legal fiction. That practice, however one tries to finesse it, is clearly in violation of the commandment, “Thou shalt not murder.” Refusing to use the word does not alter the reality of the crime. Are we made participants in that crime by the paying of taxes? I should have to study more in regard to the state of things in Rome and elsewhere at the time the Gospel and the Epistles were being written to discern whether there is a proper parallel there, but I think there is.
Consider that there came to be the cult of Caesar in Rome. Caesar was not merely to be viewed as Emperor, but as a god in his own right. Whether or not this had come about when Paul was writing to Rome, it certainly had its impact on Christians, didn’t it? There is a reason that Christians became insistent that only Jesus could be spoken of as Lord. They could not and would not declare the same of Caesar because this would be knowingly and vocally proclaiming him a god, and that they could not do. But did they pay taxes? I have little cause to doubt it. Did some portion of those taxes go into the fashioning of idols and temples for the Caesar cult? It seems probable. Were these believers therefore guilty of idolatry even at such a remove? I think not.
It's somewhat akin to the matters of meat in the market that Paul addresses. If that meat were clearly identified as sacrificial in nature, and still bearing its strong association with this temple or that, one might be better advised to buy something else, and if your host proudly informs you of such provenance for his meat then abstain for the sake of conscience – his, not yours. That’s the general flow of Paul’s advice (1Co 10:25-29). But as to what’s in the market? If it doesn’t say, don’t ask. Buy what you need and eat with clear conscience.
This, it strikes me, covers the current state of affairs when it comes to taxation. Did your specific contribution go specifically to support abortion? You don’t know. You can’t know. That being the case, while you may work to change the law through legal channels, and most certainly ought to do what can be done to elect more godly representatives to office, as well as praying for those who are in office regardless, you most assuredly should continue to submit in paying your taxes. The line is not yet crossed.
What, however, if it becomes mandatory, as it has been in China, for example, to abort any child after your first? What if you are required by law to perform that abortion? What if you are required by law to permit that unmarried couple, or that couple whose marriage defies the Creation ordinance, to dwell under your roof? What if you are required – not permitted, required – to officiate such a marriage, thereby giving it the imprimatur of holy matrimony? Here, I think we see the line clearly and unmistakably drawn. The Christian cannot, must not, comply. The government that would oppose such a law has demonstrated their lack of authority. Oh, they almost certainly have the power to force compulsory compliance. They may be able to coerce outward compliance, or to kill the body if compliance cannot be coerced. But that power is without authority. Their authority, having been given them by God, whatever they or we may think on the matter, is null and void given their exercise of that authority.
As I say, our present crop of representatives demonstrates a clear disregard for any higher authority. Certainly, there is little to no regard for God as the final authority. Indeed, for many of them, it rankles to be required to take that oath of office that would give reference to Him, and given opportunity, they would strip all mention of Him from any action or building associated with government. After all, for many of them, government is god. In practice, it’s pretty clear that there is minimal regard for any human of higher authority as well, or of law, for that matter. It’s pure power, wielded for personal satisfaction, and the governed be damned if they don’t like it.
This, I fear, must be recognized as the inevitable end of any form of government man might undertake to contrive, for any such government will, of necessity, be populated by fallen men. To make it worse, such power is bound to attract those least qualified to hold power. Those who become a name among fallen man tend to be those who are most fallen, or at the very least, most adept at putting a false front on their fallen nature. Knowing so little about those who would ostensibly represent us, but in effect rule us, we are forced to vote primarily on appearances. The nature of the process, as it stands, really gives us little more than appearances to go on. The debates, such as they are, are no real debates, but a series of posturing statements, largely delivered with total disregard for the question supposedly under consideration, and firmly aimed at the soundbite. If it can’t be boiled down to thirty seconds or less, it can’t matter, nor can the public retain it.
b. Philosophy
Philosophy has not fared much better under fallen man. It’s had its high points, to be sure, and there has been some deep and clever thinking done along the way. But the philosophers are drawn from fallen man, and as such, their perception of Truth remains shattered by the fall. There have been periods when it seems that the pursuit of philosophy was a pursuit of the good, of knowledge of God, however misguided the pursuer may have been. Over time, however, it has become popular, if not absolutely necessary, for the philosopher to start his pursuit from a baseline of having rejected the very idea of God. Whatever meaning he is to find in life, he surmises, must be found quite apart from some higher entity having organized it.
It is one of the saddest things I can readily imagine that one should spend the whole of his maturity seeking meaning apart from the God Who gives life meaning. How frustrating it becomes to seek purpose having rejected the purpose intended. How utterly unsurprising that those who pursue such an effort tend toward darkness and depression. How utterly predictable that the likes of a Nietzsche would come to a suicidal end. What is left when you start your life work by rejecting the one thing that answers the quest of your life work, and then proceed from there? What hope is there, when you begin by removing Hope? What else is one to find in life, having removed God, but hopelessness, pointlessness, and a longing after death, that one might get it over with the sooner?
This, I will observe, has not utterly deprived the philosophy of man of all truth. There are grains of truth and even of profundity to be found in the observations of even the most fallen of men, for even the most fallen of men have yet the admittedly marred and distorted image of God upon them. Even the most abject of liars may tell an occasional truth.
Think of Caiaphas who, in spite of his clearly corrupt use of office, indeed even his being in office was itself a corruption given the previous high priest was alive and well, was given a prophetic pronouncement to make. He did not, I think, suppose it prophetic, but merely pragmatic. “It is expedient for you that one man die for the people, and that the whole nation not perish” (Jn 11:50). In his mind, this was a question of stopping Jesus lest Rome in its power come down on Israel. John, however, recognizes the greater truth. “He did not say this on his own initiative, but being high priest that year, he prophesied that Jesus was going to die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but in order that He might also gather together into one the children of God who are scattered abroad” (Jn 11:51-52). Caiaphas spoke a Truth he did not himself acknowledge or even understand.
This same sort of thing can, and I think at some level must, happen amongst those who seek to wrestle with Truth, however misguided their efforts, and however fallen their thinking. If one is seeking wisdom, will the God of Wisdom wholly reject him? Is not the granting of wisdom and knowledge a part of God’s common grace? Does He not bless mankind with good things even in their evil state?
So, then, we ought not to reject philosophy out of hand, but we must measure it by the higher revelation of God’s Word. That which accords with biblical principles we must surely accept as true regardless of the source. The words of Caiaphas were no less true for having come from his mouth. Truth is Truth, and bends neither to opinion nor is altered by the one given to convey said Truth. We are fond of observing that all Truth is God’s Truth, and that is assuredly True. God is Truth. Truth cannot but be God’s Truth. This does not prevent fallen man from proclaiming all manner of lies and declaring them to be true. Indeed, that lie which admitted to being a lie would be pretty pointless, wouldn’t it? But when the lie is cut away, what remains is true, even if it was a liar who said it. When Plato writes accurately in regard to Truth, we need not reject it because it came from Plato. By the same token, we need not accept it on that basis, either. We accept as true that which is demonstrably True. We accept as demonstrably True that which is in harmony and accord with the Word of God.
c. Science
[12/15/19]
This same understanding needs to apply to our considerations of science as well. That which the scientists are able to explain by their sciences is not rendered untrue because it is they who present us with the understanding. Then, too, that which the scientist propounds is not accepted simply because it has been propounded by scientists. For all that, what is presented to us as scientific consensus is almost certainly going to be found false at some juncture. Science doesn’t run by consensus. It runs by demonstrable, provable premise. That is to say, given your methods and materials, were I to perform the same exercise, I should arrive at the same results. That is at least the first step. If the results cannot be duplicated, the premise is flawed. If they can be duplicated, the premise, at least is sound, but the conclusions drawn from said premise may yet be invalidated.
The idea that science says, and therefore it must be true ought rightly to be rejected outright. The scientist worth his salt knows this. He offers his best judgment, and invites the picking apart of his thesis in order that true understanding might be arrived at. He recognizes himself as a fallen being, whether or not he would speak of it in such terms.
Science properly pursued is a seeking to understand the works of God. Many among the ranks of the greats recognized this as their fundamental starting point. If there is no God, there is no reason to expect any sort of order or law of nature which we might discover. If all is chaos and random chance, then there’s really no point seeking to understand how it works. It’s all accident, and at that point, we’ve pretty well exhausted the explicable part of it. Find something better to do with your time.
On the other hand, the works that flow out of science do demonstrate a certain validity to much of theory. That I am sitting here in a warm home, typing these thoughts out on a machine that displays my words as fast as I can type them, offers corrections when it thinks perhaps I have misspelled or mis-punctuated, stores the end result off in retrievable form, and will, when I so choose, permit that I transfer the words from here to another format which I can then, with the push of a button, publish to whoever might care to read them without having consumed the least bit of ink or paper, is the product of scientific endeavor. The materials present in furnishings and clothing are the results of scientific endeavor. The fact that there is food preserved for my consumption in the kitchen, along with the means to cook and heat same, that I can take to the cellar and wash and dry my clothing, that in my driveway is a modern wonder that allows me to sit down and transport myself to whatever destination I may have it in mind to visit: All these things result from scientific understanding.
But scientists are a fallen lot, as are we all. They can and do fall prey to the temptation of shaping their results to suit their preferences, or the preferences of those footing the bill for their research. They are prone to pride, as are we all, and may make pronouncements of great certainty on matters yet dubious. What is worse, in our present climate, they are called upon, and quite willing, to make moral pronouncements as to the possibilities presented by their skills. We must come to recognize that the discernment of how things work, or how a thing could work, does not automatically infuse the one discerning with moral stature. The scientist is no more equipped by his arts to make pronouncements on right and wrong than the theologian is equipped by his arts to make pronouncements as to the movements of stars and planets. We would not – if we are wise – invite the local framer to perform surgery on us, nor would we seek to consult a surgeon as to the proper bracing of a wall. We don’t seek out a grocer to service the car, nor do we seek growing tips from the local body shop. We understand that skill and knowledge in one area does not impart skill and knowledge in another. And yet, for some perverse reason, we suppose that the superior knowledge of the scientist in his particular sphere of knowledge renders him fit to pass moral judgment on what is made possible by his knowledge.
To take the most obvious example: The scientists who were able to uncover the workings of the atom in such a fashion as led us to nuclear power were not by that knowledge suited to pass judgment on the goodness or the evil of utilizing said power. For all that, the goodness or evil of its use is rather dependent upon the use, isn’t it? The powers of nature, even as fit and formed by the art of man, are morally neutral in and of themselves. It’s the use made of them that tends toward one moral pole or the other.
In our day, we could consider those works of science that have allowed for gender reassignment, as it is termed. We can, marvel of marvels as we are told, turn boys into girls and girls into boys. They may not be fully functional, mind, but we can alter the hormonal content, snip off this bit and encourage the growth of that bit, and voila! But does the ability to do so render that course advisable? Does it render that course advisable under every circumstance? Under any circumstance? Nobody, it seems, has stopped to question this. We have learned to handle gene splicing, to intermix species and create new ones. Does this automatically make the pursuit of such things a good idea?
The fact of the matter is that much of what science has enabled us to produce proves to have both good and bad application. In other cases, the applications that have thus far been explored have been entirely bad, and here I would place things like gender reassignment. Much of modern medicine, it seems to me, falls into the category of things that could go either way. We are able to come up with drugs most curious, and potentially marvelous in their effect. Of course, they may also be deadly in their effect. There may be effects down the road that we simply don’t yet know about. It seems the one, proven law of science tends to be the law of unintended consequence. It’s not just for politicians. We simply do not have the capacity to see sufficiently into the future, to test sufficiently every aspect of that which we are able to do. And so, we find even the most settled science is often in need of revising. We find that things we have learned to be able to do we would just as soon learn how to forget.
Who among us would not find it utterly to be desired were all of humanity to lose both the art and the interest to make atomic weapons? We might, perhaps, accept the continued development of atomic energy as a means for supplying electricity or for powering interstellar travel, but if we could have that without the development of explosives, without any inkling of an idea that explosives were even a possibility, would we not gladly accept said outcome?
Of course, fallen men will, being fallen, find cause to turn any good thing to evil purpose, even the Bible. Science is no different, nor are scientists. What then do we conclude? Science is not to be rejected out of hand, neither accepted out of hand. The pronouncements and achievements of human endeavor are to be weighed and measured by something greater than man. Where we have arrived at a could, we must turn elsewhere for a should. That elsewhere is found in the Word of God. Here is our test for Truth. Here is our test for Goodness. Is this new ability suited to the pursuit of that which is Good? Then, let us put this ability to good purpose. Is it capable of being bent to evil ends? Almost certainly. Evil heart finds evil use for everything. Sin corrupts everything that sinful man puts his hands to. The man who would be righteous seeks to avoid such sinful use, and to preserve the good use.
d. Art
Art, and its companion entertainment, are perhaps the most challenging to consider in terms of fallen humanity, but consider we must. Here, too, the corruption of man has corrupted the result. There have been periods where art in fact represented a pursuit of beauty, and I do think many an artist has recognized that God is the definer of Beauty even as He is the definer of Good. Somewhere along the way, however, the artists got in their heads that their purpose was not to create beauty but to challenge preconceptions. Art, it was supposed, must be transgressive to be true art. Of course, such a conception of art is nonsense, and the proponents of that view rather self-involved. There might, perhaps, be a place for such efforts, but the primary purpose of art is beauty, not anger.
This ostensible artist who recently caused a bit of a ripple for his ‘art’, which consisted of a banana duct-taped to a wall, may have, ahem, challenged preconceptions about what constitutes art, but he hasn’t actually produced art. He hasn’t created anything of beauty. Much of what is passed off as art in our day is really little more than a projection of internal ugliness. It is a celebration of ugliness. Look around! Whether it’s body art, performance art, written word or musical work, much of what is passed off as art is an exercise in ugly. Rap music may be many things, but beautiful is not one of them. I could say the same for the punk rock that arose in my own era. It was no thing of beauty, and in fact reveled in its own ugliness.
Look about the media landscape, what passes for television. How much of it celebrates actual beauty? How much of it rather blatantly chooses to celebrate ugly? Our entertainments uphold every perversion as a thing to celebrate, and denounce every norm of civil society as contemptable attempts by the man to hold us down. Even in architecture, if we consider this as an artform, much of what is celebrated is inherently ugly. Think of the whole modernist movement, which is so celebrated by ‘serious’ aficionados of architecture. How is it most often described? It’s ‘brutal’. It may have a ‘certain elegance and simplicity’, a ‘cleanness of line’, but beautiful is not really a term one can reasonably associate with the result.
This is, perhaps, the greatest risk to spirit and soul that we face. It is certainly the most prolific source of negative input, for we are surrounded, day in and day out, with artistic expression. Every car that passes by expresses a certain artful aesthetic, both in the lines of its form and in the sound of its passing. Do you not recognize that the individual with the bored-out exhaust seeking to ensure that one and all can hear his passing is also making an artistic statement? The pink rims, the carefully angled drift wheels, the overgrown hood scoop and tail fin, all of these are artistic declarations. How many of them, however are expressions of beauty?
We have come, my wife and I, to assess most vehicles by their tail lights any more. Why is that? Well, in part, it’s because the tail lights have become about the only distinguishing feature of the vehicle, as they all start to look pretty much the same. There is little enough of graceful line to the modern vehicle. Indeed, we have been through periods where ugly seems to have been the driving paradigm. To my mind, most vehicles of the late 70s fit that measure. It’s like the designers got together and asked one another what was the worst look they could think of, and went for it. But now, with LED lighting, tail-lights offer the designer to show his stuff. Everything else, it seems, is sacrificed to the automotive gods of reduced wind resistance and increased mileage. Style is at best an afterthought. But in the tail-lights, artistry at least has a place to express. Some could be rated as at least intriguing, and perhaps might even border on a certain sort of beauty. Others are just inherently ugly, ostentatiously ugly. Something in us looks at these things and recognizes a failure of proportions. We can write it off as no more than a matter of taste, but here’s the problem: Beauty is not in fact a matter of taste.
Beauty is a matter of propriety of form. Beauty, like Good and Evil, like Truth, answers to a higher authority, a higher standard. Art, if it is to be appreciated and enjoyed, needs to follow the contours and colorations of God’s standard of beauty. Art, if it is to be appreciated and enjoyed, ought rightly to celebrate that which is good. “Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worth of praise, dwell on these things” (Php 4:8). Now consider the artistry you consume, for these are truly things upon which you dwell. Do they fit this standard? Do they reflect truth and honor? Are the pure and lovely? Is there anything of excellence in it? Anything worth of praise? If not, then why are you feeding yourself on such dreck?
